Bronze sculpture
24 lbs
12" h x 10" w x 8" d
The Minotaur
As a kid I was always a reader. Split my time between reading and drawing. Still do, I guess, except now it’s mostly sculpting, or drawings related to sculpture.
The stories I read in my youth influence my artwork to this day. The great classics, Greek mythology, the Minotaur, Icarus… and of course, King Arthur.
Sometimes these stories are told from a certain perspective, but a little reflection can offer up intriguing possibilities.
The Minotaur was a monster visited as divine retribution upon King Minos for an affront to the god Poseidon. In this capacity, the monster is a useful tool of the gods, a symbol of shame and embarrassment to Minos, and a source of terror to those out of favor with the king. The labyrinth became the original black hole, a place, once entered, of no return.
The City-State of Athens, a defeated foe, was forced to offer annually as tribute 10 of the fairest youth of the city, who were thrown into the labyrinth and sacrificed to the Minotaur. The young prince Theseus places himself among the sacrificial victims, to either destroy the Minotaur, or perish in the attempt.
In these tales, the Minotaur is just an archetypal obstacle (insert generic monster here) for the hero to overcome. The creature has no character development, no personality, no motivation. But what of the Minotaur? Did it have an opinion?
As a young monster it once freely roamed the island of Crete, terrorizing the locals. Once captured, however, it was imprisoned in the impenetrable Labyrinth.
Imagine a creature that grew up in a beautiful outdoor setting, sentenced to perpetual
darkness, never again to see the Sun or the greenery of the warm hills, or feel the cool sea breezes of the Aegean.
In my sculptural version of the story, I have shown the Minotaur in a moment of discovery. The creature is jet black, not from the coloration of its skin, but from a complete absence of light in the dark labyrinthine passages. Not a single ray of light penetrates the Stygian gloom. It kneels, and discovers a small flower in the path.
Now here is the question. Holding the fragile blossom in its fingers, does it recall a time from its happier youth when it wandered across the open fields and meadows of a wider world? Does it ever wonder why it has been consigned to such a dark and dismal fate. What did the creature do to deserve such an existence… a lifetime of ill treatment from men and the gods? Or, finding the flower, is the Minotaur a simple malevolent force with no redeeming qualities, who knows that the blossom must have fallen from the hair of an unfortunate Athenian youth, and thus… Lunch is served?
Are monsters born or are they created?